


Dimensional Transcendence

by fivefootnothing



Category: Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-17
Updated: 2010-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivefootnothing/pseuds/fivefootnothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Navigating Subspace is a lot harder than it looks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dimensional Transcendence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lothkitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lothkitten/gifts).



“It’s too _haaaarrrrrdd_!” Knives flops herself face down on her bed, the rest of her tirade muffled (thankfully) by the combined effort of her favourite synthetic down pillow (she’s allergic to anything else) and stalwart, plushie guardian of her bedroom, Mr. Snuggly Bearface Worthington the IV (she’d named him when she was six). “MMPHPH HRRR ROO MRRR MMMPHA GHHH! RRGG FWRR KLLLLRR RRRGGGAHHFNNNAH!”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Ramona deadpans. “You tell that pillow who’s boss.”

Knives lifts her head up from her soft, squishy, make-shift mouth-gag with a surprisingly graceful ****SWISH****. “How did you learn so fast?”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” Ramona says, ****FWUMP**** ing down onto the edge of Knives’ bed. “Roxy taught me everything I know about getting through Subspace.”

“Cuz she’s a ninja?”

“Half-ninja,” Ramona says, the correction blurted out like an involuntary tic. 

“So when she ****PAF**** ed around--”

“She was traveling through Subspace. I could never ****PAF****. There was something about ****PAF**** ing I just couldn’t get. But the doors were easy, so we concentrated on me being able to see those doors.”

“But it means getting into someone else’s head. That part creeps me out.” Knives settles into a sitting position, arms wrapped around her bent legs, chin resting on her knees. 

Knives’s scarf (with those sweet black-and-white stripes) tousles around her shoulders and Ramona reaches out, tugging gently until the scarf’s folded-up wonkiness straightens free. When Ramona lifts her hand away, the back of her wristwarmer (pink, to match her hair this week) brushes against Knives’s cheek. That coaxes a grin out of her. 

Ramona’s never noticed how brilliant and how blithe that grin could be. “You’re cute.”

Brilliant and blithe and now blushing. Hey, three out of three alliterative moments. That had to be some kind of flirting record.

“C’mon,” Ramona says. “We can try something else.” She hops off the bed and swoops her arm into the straps of her bag (still starred and still a whole lot bigger on the inside), pulling it close to her side. Her hand wriggles, dips carefully into the bag and heaves out her ginormous, really-too-big-to-be-allowed-in-reality-let-alone-in-some-teenage-girl’s-bedroom sledgehammer.

Knives’s gaze, once bright and curious, wanes into a cagey glare. She’s seen what Ramona could do with that hammer, and it wasn’t exactly something Mr. Bearface Worthington the IV should witness under any circumstances. Besides, if the walls to her bedroom were knocked out or damaged in any way whatsoever, her parents would be _so pissed off_. “Ummm...”

Ramona grasps the hammer solidly, twirls it, sets one hand right up against the head to support that hefty weight, and the other hand farther back as a pivot point. “I promise it’s not going to hurt.”

 _Ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap_. “I’m...not scared of it hurting.” ****OHCRAP****

“Good.” Ramona’s eyebrow quirks up and she swings the hammer free of her grip. It lumbers into a heavy arc and slams to the floor ****CRUNCH**** setting a sledgehammer-shaped indentation into the carpet.

Knives’s eyes flinch even wider, inching their focus onto that divot in the carpet. The floor creaks. ****OHCRAP**** It creaks. It ****CREAK**** s but it doesn’t collapse. 

“Anything?” asks Ramona.

“H-huh?” Knives’s heart is pretty much slamming against the walls of her chest and she’s _OHSOSCARED_ that her dad’s about to tromp up the stairs and tell her that her new friend needs to leave so that she has enough time to memorise her “How to Study Harder” books, but...he doesn’t.

Ramona glances around the bedroom, sighs. She eases close to Knives, sweeping the fringe of hair (dyed pink to match Ramona’s) clear before tapping at her forehead. “Sometimes a rush of adrenaline helps. The first time a door manifested for me, I was fighting off a whole horde of ninjas. ”

“Wh-why were ninjas after you?”

Ramona heaves a shrug. “They caught me and Roxy--”

Widened eyes again. “Making out?”

“That...was definitely one of the many synchronized activities we were engaged in back then. Yeah.” Ramona’s hand roams from Knives’s hair down to her chest, resting right at the middle of her bosom. “That’s weird. Your heart’s going crazy. It should’ve worked.”

“I...” Knives doesn’t know what’s going on, or why she ends up leaning really really close to Ramona, or why she seeks out Ramona’s deep red lips, or why she suddenly wants to taste those lips, but she does. And her heart in her chest continues to thump away like it’s spurring at her to keep going. ****

  
****BAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAM****   


And the deep red cartoon hearts that flutter free from the initial meeting of soft mouth to soft mouth exactly match the shade of Ramona’s lipstick, but Knives doesn’t notice because her eyes are shut. They’re shut so tight because she’s scared that her dad’s gonna walk in and find them making out, and her dad would lock her away in her bedroom after that, and she’d never be able to break out of her rigid life and her parents’ rigid rules.

This, with Ramona, was so the opposite of rigid.   
[   
A chime dings.   
](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GESmPxKv1k)   
[](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GESmPxKv1k)

“I...shouldn’t have done that,” murmurs Knives, cheeks still flushed as she waves away the last of those hearts still dancing around her head. 

Ramona shakes her head. “Hey, it’s...it’s okay.” She gathers her bag, tucks her hammer back inside and angles a nod towards the far end of the bedroom. “It worked, see?”

At first, Knives doesn’t believe her. Ramona’s only being nice or whatever. But there, right behind Ramona, was a substantial door, a new door Knives had never noticed before, a door with a glittering diamond shape set near the top.

“Oooooo wow! That came out of my head?” Knives skims off her bed with an audible ****SLISSSH**** and she approaches the door.

“It didn’t come from mine.” Ramona’s Subspace doors are always marked with stars. Even her Subspace bag’s marked with a star. “And I’m pretty sure that the door didn’t come from Mr. Bearface Carrington.”

“Worthington.”

“Whatever.” Shrug. “So you wanna check it out?”

Knives slides her hand into Ramona’s, their shared grip comfortably warm. Fingers are laced together, and Knives sets her free hand around the doorknob and shoves the door open. 

Something soft and white and fluffy glides out of the crack. White fur and white wings and white ears, but with a velvety pink nose. Ramona wrinkles her brow, staring intently at the happy winged bunny. “...the hell?”

Knives squeals in absolute enchantment at the new critter and eagerly wrenches her captive partner through the door. “Let’s go!”

“I...am going to regret this, aren’t I?” Ramona says with a forgiving grin. It’s the kind of grin she didn’t even reserve for things (like boys) who had to be excused for not knowing any better (like boys). 

Besides, whatever’s behind Knives’s door had to be loads better than a stupid, hot, barren desert with nothing remotely resembling shade except for a single forlorn cactus.

Right?

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was for Knives and Ramona being shiny together without Scott. I do hope this qualifies. Title is ganked shamelessly from Doctor Who.


End file.
